A Fairy Tale Honeymoon St Patrick's Day Fic
by Rowena Zahnrei
Summary: Kurt and Ororo's trip to Hawaii is interrupted by a string of odd occurances and colorful characters as they try to rescue seven kidnapped children. (Complete Story! Please Review! :D )


Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men and the Sidhe are entities unto themselves. Please don't sue me or steal my story!

A Fairy Tale Honeymoon  
By Rowena

It was a scene straight out of Paradise, vivid with color and sound and the scent of exotic flowers. A warm, gentle breeze skimmed across the clear, blue waters of the secluded lagoon, dancing with the fine mist that rose from the rushing waterfall and filling the small valley with faintly glistening rainbows.

"Bright Goddess!" Ororo exclaimed, her blue eyes wide with reverent awe as she squeezed her husband's hand. "It's breathtaking! However did you find this place?"

"I spotted it from the plane as we were circling around, waiting to land. According to the map, this place is practically impossible to get to on foot, and the sharp volcanic rocks lying just under the water make it too dangerous for boats to cross the lagoon. In other words," Kurt smiled, striding over to a flat boulder by the lagoon and slipping his bulging rucksack from his shoulder, "it struck me as the perfect place for a romantic picnic."

He wagged his eyebrows, his happy smile stretching into a playful grin as Ororo sauntered over to join him.

"It's hard to believe it's March," she observed, taking in a deep breath of warm, scented air. "Back home there's still snow on the ground. But here, this place, it's so full of life! I'd almost forgotten how refreshing it can be to feel the plants growing, stretching out their leaves to face the sun."

"My lady love waxes poetic," Kurt smiled fondly, hopping onto the boulder and pulling her up beside him. "So, is this a good time to admit that you were right? That Hawaii was a better choice for our honeymoon than the Alps?"

Ororo cocked an eyebrow, her blue eyes glittering. "Any time is good for that. So, what have you stashed away in that backpack of yours? A cunning concoction of potent aphrodisiacs, no doubt."

Kurt laughed as he unzipped the rucksack and began to lay out their meal. "But of course," he said, setting down a Styrofoam take-out box Ororo recognized as coming from the Vegan sandwich shop across the street from their hotel. "Here are the chocolate covered ants imported all the way from the distant Amazon by private jet--finest quality dark chocolate, of course," he added in response to the look of mock exasperation Ororo shot him. "Two individual bottles of the most expensive champagne to be found anywhere on these islands." Ororo snatched one of the green beer bottles from his hand before he had a chance to set it down. "And here," Kurt grinned as he came to his grand finale, "we have two fresh pears poached in spiced red wine and stuffed with pistachio cream."

He lifted the lid with a flourish, causing Ororo to roll her eyes as he held the box out to her. With slow deliberation, as though she was doing him some great favor, she peered over her nose into the box. She gasped, and at the look on his face her gasp immediately dissolved into bright laughter.

"Oh, Goddess!" she giggled, "they are! And they're still warm! Where in the world did you get these at eleven o'clock in the morning?"

Kurt looked coy. "Let's just say the chef at the hotel restaurant harbors something of a torch for a certain fuzzy, blue superhero."

"So, I have some competition, then," Ororo smirked, scooting closer to reach for her sandwich. "Should I be worried?"

Kurt caught her hand before she could touch the box, looking into her eyes as he graced her brown knuckles with an affectionate kiss. "My beautiful Frau," he started, "you are--"

"Ahem."

Kurt and Ororo turned their heads as one, alarmed at the unexpected sound, only to see a tiny man dressed all in green standing on a branch, his dark, piercing eyes fixed on the bottles in their hands.

"If you good people will please pardon the interruption," he said politely in his clear, piping voice. "I am mighty parched. Could you perhaps spare a drop or two of that fair brew for a weary traveler on this fine St. Patrick's Day?"

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Lieber Gott," he breathed, unable to take his eyes from the tiny man. "Ororo, do you see…"

"I think so," Ororo said, her eyes just as wide as her husband's.

"Could this be a real….leprechaun?"

"Leprehaun," the little man corrected with a tip of his green hat. "Also known as the leith bhrogan. And yes, as the name suggests, I do dabble in cobbling when I'm at home. Me and my kind have been making the finest shoes in Ireland for more centuries than you'd dare count. But right now, I happen to be on holiday. About that beer…just a capful will do…"

Kurt gave a start, his stunned stupor thawing somewhat. "Was? --Oh, yes…of course," he said, filling his bottle cap with beer and handing it to the diminutive figure on the branch. "Here you go."

The little man's bearded face lit up like a holiday lantern. "Much obliged, my good sir," he said, taking a long draft.

"Och," he said, smacking his lips. "And here I was hoping for a good Irish brew. You Germans make fine beer, lad, but I tell you there's no substitute for Guinness on St. Patrick's Day."

Kurt could only blink. The little man shook his head.

"You two need to work on your conversation skills," he commented, flipping the empty bottle cap back onto the rock. "You're like two great gasping codfish--mouths opening and closing but not a sound to be heard. But since you were so kind as to let me partake of your drink, I'll offer you a service."

"You'll lead us to your pot of gold?" Ororo asked, amazed. The little man made a face.

"That pot is nothing more than an old superstition. Yes, I know where the fairy gold is hid, but it ain't in no pot and it ain't mine to dole out to whomever I please, I'll tell you that. But don't be thinking I don't know who you are. You need my advice more than you need that fairy gold, so heed my warning well." He stepped closer on his narrow branch, his dark eyes eerily serious in his normally merry face.

"The Sidhe are on the lookout for new blood," he said, his voice so low even Kurt had to strain to hear. "Beware the fairy singers 'ere they lead you out of time. That's all I'll say."

Kurt and Ororo shared a nervous glance, but when they turned back to the branch, the little leprehaun had vanished.

"Did that just happen?" Ororo asked, squeezing Kurt's fuzzy hand.

"I don't think it was a trick of the light," Kurt said, examining his bottle cap with wonder. "Can you imagine, though--we met a living leprehaun in Hawaii of all places! I've been to Ireland…oh…several times with the circus, but no matter how hard I searched or how long I stared at the dock leaves, I never--"

"Kurt," Ororo interrupted, "what about that warning? He knew we're X-Men, I'm sure of it. He gave us that warning for a reason. Who are the Sidhe? Do you think the town could be in danger?"

Kurt glanced at their untouched picnic, then turned back to his wife, his brow furrowed. "I don't know," he said. "But we should find out."

* * *

"It's all over the news. How could we have missed something like this?"

"Easily," Ororo said with a slight shake of her head. "We weren't looking. And there's no reason that we should have been. We came here on our honeymoon, not on a mission."

"Ja, you are right," Kurt nodded. "But we seem to have landed in one just the same. Look at all these reports." He made a sweeping gesture towards the newspaper clippings and Internet printouts spread out over the round, hotel room table. "A string of unexplained infant deaths, all concentrated in the same area. Every one of these seven children were in perfect health until overnight they grew wizened and shriveled, as though they had aged ninety years in only a few hours! The doctors are stumped, the police are baffled. Where do we come in?"

Ororo frowned, a thoughtful look crossing her face as she reached for one of the printouts. "The infants' faces were so wrinkled as to be almost unrecognizable…" she muttered softly, reading mainly to herself, "…some were found with coarse, black hair all over their bodies…" She looked up at Kurt. "Why does this sound so familiar? I know I've never heard of anything like this before."

Kurt's eyes widened and he gasped. "Mein Gott, the Sidhe! The leprehaun said they were looking for new blood. Why didn't I see it before?"

"See what, Kurt?" Ororo asked.

"Changelings!" he exclaimed, rushing over to the hotel room's computer. Using one, thick finger, he tapped at the keyboard, gesturing for Ororo to join him.

"It's an old Irish myth," he explained, getting up so she could read the information on the web page he'd pulled up. "The Sidhe are the fairy folk that inhabit Ireland. According to legend, they need to steal human children--preferably before they're christened--to act as servants or even to add to the fairy gene pool."

Ororo's eyes widened. "Fresh blood, like the leprehaun said!"

"Yes! And in their place, they leave changelings--ancient fairies at the point of death or even sticks that have been disguised and animated to look like a human child. When the stick stops moving, the parents think the child has died and hold a burial, never guessing their real child has been kidnapped!"

Ororo stood, her mocha face drawn with conviction. "Kurt, we must find that leprehaun again. We have to find a way to rescue these children from the Sidhe, and to stop them before they can kidnap anyone else."

"But how?" Kurt asked. "Leprehauns are notoriously difficult to find, even in Ireland."

"Then we don't look for him," Ororo said. "We let him find us, just like he did before."

* * *

Kurt and Ororo appeared beside their picnic rock in a BAMF of sulfurous smoke. The sun was higher now, but the tranquil atmosphere that had hung over the picturesque lagoon had been replaced with a strange, almost restless air. A high-pitched, birdlike twitter now filled the small valley, buzzing in their ears like so many insects. And, as they moved closer to the lagoon, a new sound began to swell, rising above the rushing waterfall and mingling with the rustle of the leaves.

"_Da Luan, Da Mort, augus Da Dardeen…Da Luan, Da Mort, augus Da Dardeen…_"(1)

"Do you hear that?" Ororo asked, tilting her head slightly as she stood at the foot of the narrow falls. "It sounds like singing."

"_Da Luan, Da Mort, augus Da Dardeen…Da Luan, Da Mort, augus Da Dardeen…_"

"It's so beautiful," Kurt smiled, his golden eyes distant as he listened to the blending voices, each of them weaving an individual harmony that enriched the whole as the sweet, complicated melody rose and fell in a hypnotic rhythm. "I've never heard anything like it before."

"It seems to be coming from behind the waterfall," Ororo observed, stepping a bit closer. "Or from underground. I can't really tell."

Kurt watched her, suddenly wary as she stepped onto a slippery rock at the edge of the lagoon.

"Meine Liebe," he called out, "perhaps you should not get so close. Didn't the leprehaun say something about fairy singers?"

Ororo shot him one of her famous looks. "Kurt, perhaps you forget that I control the elements? If you just give me a moment, I will push this waterfall aside like a curtain so we can see what's behind it."

"Oh, dear, she's done it now," a familiar, piping voice sounded in Kurt's ear. He gave a start, nearly knocking the little leprehaun from his shoulder.

"Careful now, my lad!" the tiny man exclaimed, clasping onto Kurt's pointed ear to keep his balance. "Did I not warn you against the fairy music?"

"Why, what's going on?" Kurt demanded, straining his neck to look the little man in the eye.

"Well, it's too late to stop it now," the leprehaun said. "The fairy music's already in her heart. She's ripe for the plucking, she is."

"What the devil are you talking about?" Kurt frowned, his heart filling with a sudden, irrational fear. "Ororo! Liebchen, come back now! We can explore the waterfall later. The leprehaun's returned!"

But even as he spoke, something very strange was beginning to happen. The twittering in the treetops swelled to a fever pitch as the singing grew in intensity. Ororo froze in place, her arms outstretched, her clouded eyes halfway between white and blue. An eerie, green light began to rise from her mocha skin like smoke, coloring her snowy hair and making her face seem jaundiced and sickly; almost unreal. Kurt's eyes widened in alarm. Without thinking, he teleported to her side, reappearing just in time to catch her limp body as she collapsed into his arms, the green light gone as though it had never been.

The little leprehaun leapt off Kurt's shoulder to peer into Ororo's unconscious face as her husband lay her down on the soft moss that carpeted the ground.

"They've taken her all right," he said, his manner brusque and clinical. "And you're gonna have to go too, my lad, if you're to stand any chance of rescuing her or the stolen kiddies."

"Go where," Kurt demanded fiercely, unconsciously baring his fangs at the little man. "What have they done to my wife!"

The little man shrank away from the alarming sight, raising his arms protectively in front of his red-bearded face. "Now, now, lad, don't go killing the messenger! It's the Sidhe that's taken her, no doubt to act as nursemaid to them they've stolen! They must have taken a liking to her pretty white hair, no doubt. The fairy folk have always been partial to blondes."

Kurt was overwhelmed. "But how can they have taken her?" he asked. "She's lying right here!"

"Her body is here, right enough," the little man agreed. "And here it'll stay, trapped in a sleep with no waking, until the one she loves journeys to the fairy realm to claim her. Don't you understand, lad, it's her soul they've taken! That was the light you saw. No living mortal can enter the fairy realm, for it is a place out of time. Only that which cannot die--the human spirit--can venture there. That is why it is known as the land of dreams…or the land of the dead."

"Ororo is not dead!" Kurt exclaimed. "And what about those children? Surely their souls weren't taken or else there would have been no need to replace them with changelings!"

The little man nodded. "That's right, that's right," he said. "The fairies keep the stolen ones safe, raising them in secret places just outside their borders and teaching them useful skills until they're old enough to take their place among them. And your wife will be charged with ensuring their well being as they grow."

Kurt pursed his lips, breathing out hard through his nose. "OK, leprehaun," he said, glaring down at the little man. "Tell me what I have to do."

The little man frowned. "I don't usually respond to such a tone," he said, "but you did share your drink with me when I was in need, which suggests you are an honorable man. I will therefore tell you how to save your lady on one condition."

"What's that?" Kurt asked warily, disturbing echoes of Rumplestiltskin flashing through his mind.

"I'm a cobbler by trade and there's nothing I enjoy more than a good challenge. If you'll allow me to shoe your unusual feet, I'll tell you what you need to know."

Kurt was so relieved he nearly broke out laughing before he saw how serious the little man actually was. Catching himself quickly, he nodded with great solemnity. "All right," he agreed. "But only after Ororo and the children are safe."

"They're safe now, my lad," the little man grinned. "But I catch your meaning. We have a deal, then." He held out his tiny hand, which Kurt shook very carefully. "Listen closely now," he said, "for I'll only be saying this once. The four-leafed shamrock is what you'll be needing to guard against fairy pishogue. (2) Once you've found one, keep it close to your heart. Seek the phouka who drinks poteen. He'll help you pass into the fairy realm unseen and tell you where to find the merrow's cohuleen driuth. As long as you have it in your possession, she will have to lead you wherever you wish to go. Tell her you seek Tir nan Og, the Land of the Young. Keep clear of the fairy food, however, and tell your lady the same when you find her. If either of you partake of even a drop of fairy wine, you will never return to this world."

He tilted his head. "You got all that, my friend?" he asked.

"Erm," Kurt said, trying desperately to remember all the strange terms the little leprehaun had used.

"Good," the little man grinned. "Now I'll be on my way. I am on holiday after all, and there are a good many sights I have yet to see on these marvelous islands. Don't be forgetting your promise, now. About the shoes."

"I won't," Kurt said. "Danke. But I'm still not sure--"

But the little man was already gone. Kurt stared at the place he had been, then at his wife's still body, his heart filling with a terrible despair. The leprehaun's instructions were already fading from his mind, and half the terms he'd used Kurt had never heard before.

"What was the first thing he said I had to do?" Kurt asked himself, speaking out loud in hopes that the sound of his voice would help stave off his fear and loneliness. "Find a four-leafed shamrock." He gave a humorless laugh. "Ach Gott, does clover even grow on Hawaii? And even if it does, how could I ever hope to find one with four…leaves…"

He trailed off, distracted by a sudden glimpse of color at the edge of his peripheral vision. Focusing his golden eyes on the spot, he was amazed to see a perfect four-leafed clover standing alone above a thick carpet of moss. It was growing on the exact spot where the tiny leprehaun had vanished barely a minute before.

"Gott im Himmel," Kurt breathed, slowly leaning down to examine the delicate plant. It was barely the length of his finger, and it was very real. With great gentleness, Kurt pulled up the tiny shamrock by the roots and tucked it carefully inside his shirt pocket, just above his heart. "So, now I'm protected against fairy pish--something. Whatever that is. What's next? A phouka that drinks from a canteen was it? No, that's not right."

He tore his hand through his indigo curls with a deep sigh, sitting back on his heels as he looked into his wife's peaceful face. "Ach, Ororo! Meine Liebe, this certainly isn't the way we imagined we'd be spending our honeymoon, is it."

Tenderly, he stroked her cheek, but the unnatural coolness of her dark skin was alarming. He stood up as if burned, his breathing ragged. She couldn't be dead. She could NOT be dead! The leprehaun had assured him that she was only sleeping--

"A phouka," he interrupted firmly, forcing his mind to stay on track. "I have to find a phouka. What on earth is a phouka?"

The twittering buzz in the trees seemed to be mocking him as he paced back and forth beside the waterfall, reluctant to move too far from Ororo's body. Something with wings like a dragonfly flitted past his nose, leaving a glittering trail in its wake. Kurt's eyes widened.

"Pixies!" he exclaimed in astonished recognition. His fuzzy brow furrowed with a thoughtful frown. "They're known for leading travelers astray, aren't they. But if this shamrock really has protective powers, perhaps they'll end up leading me to my phouka!"

With one last, lingering look at Ororo's prone form, Kurt squared his shoulders with determination. After all, this was the only lead he had.

Taking a few running steps toward the dense foliage that blanketed the steep, craggy cliff face, Kurt called out, "Pixies, I've lost my way! I'm trying to find a phouka. Could you help me?"

A high-pitched chattering that sounded a lot like laughter emanated from the brush. Kurt was just about to try again, when a bright swarm of fluttering wings and flickering lights rose into the air, singing in a trilling chorus.

"Follow me, follow me, follow we! We know the way, you will not stray! Stay by our side, we'll be your guide! Follow me!"

The trail the pixies set was winding and circuitous, and their trilling laughter and singing was incessant. Their fluttering wings made a buzzing sound more annoying than any insects, and they seemed to delight in tweaking Kurt's nose and ears and pulling his hair. More than once, Kurt was certain they were leading him past the same tree over and over again, but he had no choice but to trust that the magic properties of the four-leafed shamrock would protect him from the pixies' tricks.

Sure enough, after a grueling hour-long trek Kurt found himself on the outskirts of a small clearing. A large bull was standing in the center of the grassy space, just beside a flat rock that looked very much like a table. At that sight, the pixies seemed very upset.

"The way is clear, the phouka's here," they chorused in a sulky, angry tone. "You tricked us, made us lead you right, but if you're ever lost by night don't pass our way again!"

And with a particularly shrill twitter, the colorful swarm of pixies was gone, leaving Kurt alone with the intimidating bull. Forcing his twitching tail still, Kurt raised a nervous hand to the pocket that held the shamrock, trying to slow his breathing and calm his mind as he cautiously approached the enormous animal he assumed was the phouka he'd come to find.

Barely had he taken three steps into the clearing, however, when he noticed something very peculiar about the bull. The closer he got, the hazier its form became, as though it were nothing more than a mirage or hologram. Curious, he took his hand from his pocket and raised it to shield his eyes from the slowly sinking sun. Instantly, the bull was solid. He placed his hand over the shamrock again and squinted. The bull now seemed hazier than ever, but another form was taking shape within the illusion. It was the thin, lanky shape of a pale man in ragged clothes. He was sitting cross-legged in front of the table-like rock sipping from a battered tin mug. Kurt smiled. This had to be the phouka the leprehaun had been talking about.

"Good afternoon, Herr Phouka!" Kurt called out, gracing the disguised man with a formal bow. "My name is Kurt Wagner. May I sit with you?"

The bull grunted, but the shadowy man beneath seemed curious. "Have you ever tasted poteen, my strange-looking German friend?" he asked with a smile, holding out his mug as though offering an invitation. The bull that surrounded him, however, pawed at the grass in a threatening manner. Unsure of how to respond, Kurt returned the lanky man's smile.

"I can't say that I have, friend," he said politely. "But I'd be more than willing to give it a try."

The phouka shot him an appraising glance, then unexpectedly burst out laughing. The bull's shadow vanished like a puff of mist and he held out a thin hand to Kurt, which he took.

"Sit down, sit down!" the lanky man grinned warmly. "You must have fairy blood in you to see through my disguise so easily, even with that charm in your pocket. My name is Elwood. Have a drink!"

"Danke," Kurt smiled, taking a rather tentative sip of the potato whisky from the phouka's mug.

"No, no, no!" the phouka exclaimed. "Now what kind of a friend would I be if I let you be on your way with only a measly drop like that to warm your bones? Take a proper draft, Kurt Wagner, and tell me all your troubles! I can tell from your face that your spirits are as blue as your complexion."

"Well, I--" Kurt started, but Elwood interrupted him before he could get any further.

"It was old Lusmore sent you to me, was it not?" he asked. "That meddling leprehaun lives to spoil my leisure. I'm on holiday, if you didn't know."

"Oh? I came here on my hon--"

"Pass the mug, friend Kurt, will you?" the phouka interrupted again, holding out a pale hand. Kurt handed the dented mug to the ragged man and waited with growing impatience as he took an impossibly long draft.

"Ahhhh!" the phouka sighed with deep contentment as he placed the mug down on the rock. "That hits the spot. Right here." He thumped his chest with his fist, only to let out a very loud belch.

"Now, what was it you said you came about?" the phouka asked, suddenly appearing all business. "Ah, yes, I remember. The sneaky Sidhe are up to their old tricks again and you need my help to enter the fairy realm. Take another drink, my friend."

Kurt hadn't much liked the taste of the phouka's poteen the first time, but he didn't want to seem impolite so he took a good swallow. When he set the mug down again, however, he noticed with some wonder that it was just as full as it had been when he picked it up.

"I'll help you gladly, Kurt Wagner," Elwood continued, grinning in proud delight he watched Kurt examine his enchanted mug. "The Sidhe have no respect for marriage as you and I know it. With them, every man counts himself the father of every child born to the tribe. But if you're to stand a chance of rescuing your wife and those poor kiddies, you'll have to move fast--before they have a chance to eat from the fairies' table."

"Thank you," Kurt said, taken somewhat off guard at how quickly the phouka had offered his help, and how much he seemed to know. "But I feel I have to ask--"

"Why am I doing this?" Elwood laughed. "Not all magical beings are alike, friend Kurt. I can assure you there is no love lost between the Sidhe and myself. For all the majesty of their realm, they remain a primitive people with harsh ways. Those of us who have chosen to live according to the human concept of time have learned how to adapt to a changing world. The Sidhe, sheltered as they are in their timeless land, never will."

He stood up then, his movements almost as graceful as Kurt's. "Teleport me to the waterfall where your lady rests," he said, grasping Kurt's hand tightly in his. "And I will show you the way to the realm of the Sidhe."

(1) Translation from the Irish: Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday too. This is the song the fairies sing in _The Legend of Knockgrafton_. Source: Irish Folk and Fairy Tales edited by Gordon Jarvie.

(2) Pishogue: a fairy spell. Four-leafed clovers are special guards against such spells.

* * *

"All right, friend Kurt. The poteen has done its work. Open your eyes and take a step towards me."

At the soothing sound of the phouka's lilting voice, Kurt cracked open his eyelids only to find he was lying on the spongy moss beside Ororo's still body. The strange thing was, he didn't remember losing consciousness after completing the teleport.

"That's it," Elwood smiled. "Wake up! I've done my part, now it's time for you to do yours."

Shaking his head to clear it, Kurt sat up and rose to his feet, taking a rather unsteady step towards the grinning phouka.

"My, don't you cut a dashing figure!" Elwood said with great approval, circling Kurt to take in his image from all sides. "Moruadh will be pleased, I must say. Tell me, friend Kurt, how does it feel to be free of that body at last?"

"Was?" Kurt asked, confused and still somewhat bleary. The fog lifted at once, however, at the shock he got when he looked down.

"Gott im Himmel!" he gasped, his eyes so wide they were practically circular. "That's…that's…!"

"Your body lying there on the ground?" the phouka laughed. "But of course! Didn't Lusmore tell you? You can't take a living body into the fairy realm, only that part of it which is unhindered by mortality--or mutations for that matter. In other words, your immortal soul. You, ah, wanna see what it looks like?"

"Huh? What?" Kurt asked, too overwhelmed for rational thought.

"Your soul, man!" the phouka exclaimed, somewhat exasperated. "Oh, never mind. We're short on time as it is. Follow me."

Still somewhat dazed, Kurt trailed after the lanky man, amazed as they strode through the waterfall without getting so much as misted.

"Well, it's been a real pleasure getting to know you, my German friend," the phouka said, shaking Kurt's hand once again. "Unfortunately, this is where we must part company. But before I go, I have one last bit of advice for you. You'll need a guide to get to Tir nan Og, but you'll waste too much time if you have to search for one. Find the cohuleen driuth, my friend, and your guide will come to you."

"But what is a cohuleen driuth?" Kurt asked, his tongue stumbling awkwardly over the unfamiliar words. "And where should I look for it?"

The phouka just smiled, his skin seeming even paler in the dim, greenish light of the cavern. "Keep walking straight ahead. When you find it, you will know."

And before Kurt could even think to thank him, the phouka was gone.

* * *

It was the singing that he heard first. A sweet, young voice rising above the crashing surf and the cries of the sea birds.

The dim cavern had opened on a splendid beach spread with clean, white sand. The churning sea was a light gray-green, and the waves splashed against smooth, barnacle-covered boulders. Away in the far distance, perched atop a chalky cliff, stood a majestic, gleaming castle. At the moment, however, Kurt was more concerned with the stunning figure perched atop the closest of the weathered boulders, combing out her thick, yellow-green hair as she sang her haunting song to the sea. Beside her rested a strange, red cap. As Kurt watched, enraptured by the mermaid's song, the salty wind lifted, blowing the cap onto the wet sand.

Kurt rushed to retrieve it for her before the grasping surf could carry it away. The moment he took it in his hands, however, the young merrow gave a piercing cry.

"My cohuleen driuth!" she exclaimed, twisting her thick hair between her webbed fingers in a show of great consternation. "You have taken it! Now I cannot return to the sea!"

Kurt was flustered. "I--I'm so sorry! I was just--"

"Oh, shut-up you silly man and help me off this rock, quick!" the merrow hissed under her breath, shooting him a significant glance.

"Oh, woe is me!" she moaned theatrically as Kurt hastened to follow her orders, tucking her red cap into his back pocket. "Now I shall never see my home under the waves again. My father, my mother, all my sisters and brothers and friends, all are strangers to me now!"

Talking out of the corner of her mouth, she prompted, "Drag me to the other side of those dunes up ahead and we'll talk." Her lips barely moved as she spoke, until she turned back to the sea and started shouting again.

"Oh, please good sir, have the heart to return my cap to me!" she called out to the water, making a great show of stumbling reluctantly after Kurt. Once they were past the dunes, however, she pulled her hand from Kurt's gentle grasp and plunked herself down on the sand, where she proceeded to twist her hair into a quick, efficient bun.

"You're Kurt Wagner, aren't you," she stated more than asked, pulling a starfish from somewhere within her skin-tight dress and letting its suckers hold her hair in place. "I know why you're here." She let her deep, green eyes trail up and down his form, a slight smirk twisting her full lips. "Elwood was right," she observed, scooting a bit closer to him over the sand. "You have a beautiful soul. Is it true you're promised to another?" She batted her eyelids.

"Yes," Kurt told her in no uncertain terms. "Her name is Ororo and she's been kidnapped by the Sidhe. Elwood told me you could lead me to where she and the stolen children are being kept."

"I can," the merrow said, her voice coy as she scooted even closer, running a delicately webbed finger along Kurt's forearm. "But there has to be something in it for me. You are in possession of my cohuleen driuth. That means you can ask me to do anything--be anything you desire."

She leaned forward until their lips were barely a breath apart, fixing her green eyes on his as she flashed him her most seductive smile. Kurt frowned, taking both her wandering hands in his and lowering them down to the sand.

"All I ask of you," he said with a firm politeness, "is to lead me to where the children and my wife are being kept in Tir nan Og."

To his surprise, the merrow sat back and beamed at him. "Awesome!" she said, clearly delighted. "You pass! Not many do, you know. Them, I drown and feed to the eels and sea serpents that live below the waves. You, I'll take to Tir nan Og. Come along, now. We'll have to walk fast. You know, I'm actually glad you passed. It's not too often I get to leave this crummy beach. My parents watch me like a couple of sea hawks."

Hopping to her webbed feet, the young merrow took off across the beach, crossing the sand in ground-eating strides. Kurt had to run to catch up before he lost sight of her sea-green hair behind the dunes.

* * *

"Last call for Tir nan Og! All ashore who's going ashore! Be sure to mind the gap as you step off the train!"

Kurt rolled his eyes at his young guide's enthusiasm as they walked across the border and entered the Land of the Young. The merrow had been pelting him with questions about the human world all during their journey through the stunning forests and fertile farmlands of the fairy realm. It turned out her older sister had run away to the human world, and ever since then Moruadh, for that was the young merrow's name, had been fascinated with anything and everything that had to do with humans--particularly their fantastic means of transportation. Cars, trains, boats, planes, her eager mind soaked it up like a thirsty sponge. And Kurt was only too happy to oblige her voracious curiosity--to a point.

"So, where do we go from here?" he asked her, guiding the conversation back to his mission.

"_We_ don't go anywhere," Moruadh said. "_You_ keep following this path until you reach a large cave. Those you seek to rescue are inside. But don't think this will be easy. They are guarded, I assure you the Sidhe are cunning warriors--especially in close combat. And even if you manage to get past the guards, you still must pass a final test."

"Oh?" Kurt quirked an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

"Your lady must recognize you before she hears you speak," the merrow said, her green eyes suddenly disturbingly intense. "And you must recognize her. If you do not, it is considered proof that you are not true soulmates and she may not return with you to the human world."

"Was!" Kurt exclaimed. "But why--"

"The reason is," Moruadh interrupted, holding up a webbed finger, "the Sidhe can always find more human children. It is far more difficult for them to steal a skilled nursemaid to raise them."

Kurt closed his eyes with a frustrated sigh, then nodded. "We will know each other," he assured the marrow. "I'm sure of it. Just tell me where to go once I've got them all safely away."

"Just keep following the trail. If you are successful, Elwood will see to your return," Moruadh said. Then she smiled, reaching up to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "And you will be successful, Kurt. Just remember, you may not be a mutant in this place, but you do possess a power greater than any of the Sidhe. We long all our lives for a soul, while you…you have one of the most beautiful I have ever encountered."

She stepped back, then flashed him one last, cheeky grin as she snatched her cap from his pocket and placed it on her head. "Fare well, Kurt Wagner," she said. "Perhaps someday we'll meet again."

* * *

Ororo was absolutely exhausted. The little ones had been crying all day and were only now beginning to settle down to sleep. They were scared and lonely, and Ororo couldn't blame them. She herself had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. As far as she knew, she had always been in this cave, looking after these children. Even so, she couldn't shake the distant, shadowy memory of another life, of the faces of other children, older than these, that she had once been responsible for. And clearer than them all hovered the impression of a man. This man had a dark face, warm golden eyes, and a quirky grin that even now had the power to touch her heart. If only she could remember his name…

Ororo sat down on a wooden chair with a deep sigh. All these hazy memories were like silhouettes of a half-faded dream, more imagined than real. Perhaps there was no such man after all.

She shook her head, casting her weary gaze around the vast cavern with its small beds and rough, wooden cribs. It would be so much easier to think with a full stomach. The one thing she was sure of was that she hadn't eaten since her arrival.

Standing up with a brief stretch to ease the kinks out of her muscles, Ororo made one last check on the sleeping infants then headed towards the intricately carved tunnels at the back of the cave. A little exploring would do her good, and if she happened upon something to eat while she was at it, so much the better…

* * *

The path stretched on far longer than Kurt had expected, but the ground was flat and smooth which made for an easy walk to the entrance of the cave where Ororo and the children were being held.

"Halt!"

Kurt froze at the sharp sound of a male voice just ahead. Thinking fast, he hopped into the underbrush at the edge of the trail, creeping forward silently and steadily until he had a relatively clear view of the man who had spoken.

He was slender and not very tall with large, pointed ears and a long, aquiline nose. His hair was a deep, coarse black and he was dressed from head to foot in a type of leather armor that had been skillfully and artistically cut and sewn together. His eyes were black as well with irises so large that almost nothing of the white showed, and a beautiful sword hung at his waist. Kurt knew at once that he was looking at one of the Sidhe.

"What is it, Dem?" a second Sidhe asked from his perch above the cave's entrance. "You see something?"

"I thought I did," Dem said, scratching his head in confusion. "I could have sworn I spotted a human heading this way."

"No chance it could have been the light?" a third Sidhe spoke up, coming out of the shadows to lean against the cave entrance. "You know what tricks the sun can play on the eyes at twilight."

"Well, he doesn't seem to be there now," the Sidhe above the cave observed. "Let's all just get back to our posts. It'll be shift-change soon."

"Has the password changed since yesterday evening?" Dem asked.

"Nope," the third Sidhe said in a bored tone of voice. "It's still 'gossoon'" (3)

"So the reply is still 'check,' then?" Dem smirked.

The third Sidhe made a derisive noise. "I know it's stupid, but I wasn't the one who came up with it. We don't give the orders here, we just follow them."

At that information, Kurt's eyes lit up, a plan already forming in his mind. Quietly, Kurt practiced what he wanted to say several times. Once he was sure he had the Sidhe accent right, he called out to Dem.

"Hey Dem! The night-shift's come on a bit early tonight. Tell the others it's all right for them to go."

"That you, Murtough?" Dem called back. "I thought I saw someone out there! What's the password?"

"What do you think?" Kurt retorted. "It's 'gossoon' of course! Same as yesterday. What's the response?"

" 'Check.' And it is a check, too. Now that we've got a nursemaid to watch over those human brats, they'll be closing up the Hawaiian portal soon."

"Only to open another one somewhere else in twenty years," the third Sidhe groaned from the shadows of the entrance. "And we're going to have to guard it, of course."

"Hey, Murt," the Sidhe on top of the cave waved. "Why don't you come out in the light where we can see you?"

Kurt grimaced. "I still have to wait for the rest of the shift to arrive," he hedged. "They should be here any minute now. I was just told to let you know you can head home now. I can keep watch 'till they get here."

"Now that's the kind of message I like to hear," the Sidhe at the cave's entrance grinned. "See you tomorrow at the tavern, then?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Kurt called back, holding his breath as he watched the Sidhe guards pack up their gear and march past his hiding place without a second thought. Clearly, they weren't expecting any trouble from their prisoners, let alone a rescue attempt. If the night guards were as unprepared, it would defiantly be to his advantage. Even so, his window of opportunity was short. He'd have to move fast if he was to find Ororo before more Sidhe arrived.

(3) Gossoon: a lad or boy

* * *

The long table was like a something out of a starving man's fondest fantasy. All manner of fruits and vegetables, meats and cheeses and pastries were laid out, each dish beautifully prepared and exquisitely presented. Ororo's empty stomach rumbled loudly at the mere sight.

"Surely no one will notice if I take just one little grape," she smiled to herself as she crept toward the loaded table, reaching out a hand for the fruit bowl--

Just then, the stone room was filled with the echoes of seven screaming infants. Ororo sighed deeply, taking the time to pluck a single grape from the bunch before running back the way she'd come to find out what had set them off this time.

Once she reached the cavern, however, any words she'd planned to say died on her lips. A truly striking vision was standing before her: a slender man with a noble profile dressed in fine armor inlaid with silver and white gold. The deepening light of the setting sun lent his armor a warm, buttery glow. Ororo felt at once that she knew this dashing young man, yet when she looked into his handsome face, the features she saw were those of a complete stranger.

The noble man in his turn was staring at her with a searching expression that mirrored her own. She could only wonder what he was thinking as he stared into her…eyes…

Ororo took a stumbling step back, gasping as a floodgate of emotions burst open in her heart, filling her eyes with tears. She knew those eyes. However different his face might be, there was no doubting the truth of what she was seeing.

She took in a deep, trembling breath only to release it as joyous laughter when each of them called out the other's name at the same time. Ororo rushed into her husband's open arms, pressing her face against his cool armor as she held him to her as tightly as she could.

"A knight in shining armor," she laughed, wiping her eyes as she looked up into his face--so strange, yet now somehow overlaid with something indescribably familiar. "I should have known. I must say, it fits."

"And you, meine Liebe," Kurt smiled, kissing her slender, green-tinted hand, "You are more lovely, more graceful than the most awe inspiring dryad. Even here, your scent is like the wind."

"Kurt, how did you get here?" Ororo asked, feeling oddly lightheaded as her memories began to return. "Bright Goddess, the guards! However did you get past them without--"

"No time to explain right now," Kurt told her, reaching into the nearest cradle and lifting out the child that lay there. "We have to gather up all the children--quickly! I have a friend that will help us get back, but all of us must first be well out of this cave."

Ororo nodded her understanding, rushing to lift a child into each arm. As she did, she dropped the grape she'd been holding in her hand all that time. She watched in disappointment as it rolled into the dust and shadows beneath the crib.

"Blast it!" she grumbled. Kurt turned to her, concerned. He was already holding two of the children, and a third was riding piggyback.

"What's wrong, Schatz?" he asked her. Ororo shook her head.

"It's nothing," she assured him as she scooped up the two infants. "I just dropped something, that's all. It's not important."

The two remaining children were old enough to walk quite well on their own, and once Ororo explained that they were going to be taken back to their parents, they were only too eager to follow the two adults out of the cave and into the surrounding forest.

The sun was nearly down and both Kurt and Ororo's arms and backs were aching terribly when a sudden call caused them to freeze. Turning around slowly, the small group came face to face with--

"Elwood!" Kurt exclaimed with deep relief. "Gott sie dank!"

"Don't be thinking you're out of the woods yet, my friend," the lanky man warned. "The Sidhe know what you've done and they're on their way en masse. There's still quite a bit of walking left to do, and you'll have to step lively if you don't want to have to face the entire Sidhe army."

"Just lead the way, my friend," Kurt smiled, shooting Ororo and the two grumpy, footsore children a reassuring glance as they picked up the pace.

Several long minutes later, the phouka led them into a grassy clearing not unlike the one where he and Kurt had first met. Only here, instead of a flat stone there stood a wide portal, almost like a rounded rip had been torn into a piece of clear plastic wrap, only to reveal an entirely different world on the other side.

"Hurry through, all of you!" Elwood urged. "I don't want this portal to stay open any longer than it has to."

The weary group wasn't about to argue. Elwood followed them through, looking back over his shoulder just before the portal closed only to see rows upon rows of pointed spearheads charging up the winding path, looking for all the world like a river of glittering silver in the fading twilight.

"We've had a narrow escape indeed, that I can tell you!" the phouka exclaimed, holding his tattered handkerchief under the waterfall then using it to wipe the sweat from his pale brow. "A few moments more, and I doubt we would have made it. As it is, the Sidhe will find it mighty difficult to track us now." He smiled. "You just trust in old Elwood. He knows what he's about."

Ororo looked like she was about to say something, when her eyes fell on the two prone figures lying on the moss at her feet. She was so shocked, she nearly lost her grip on the two infants in her arms.

"Bright Goddess!" she exclaimed. "Are those…are they….?"

"Those are your bodies sure enough, safe and sound and just as you left them," Lusmore's clear, piping voice spoke up from the flat picnic rock behind them. "Perhaps even better. I'm sure you'll be grateful to know I've been keeping a close watch all the time you've been gone."

"Erm, thank you," Ororo said, a bit uncertainly.

"Not only that," the leprehaun continued, "but I took the opportunity to make those shoes I promised you, Kurt Wagner. It was quite an enjoyable challenge, and my skills were more than up to the task. You be sure to let me know how they feel once you've made some use of them."

Kurt bent down to inspect his new shoes, which he found, to his surprise, were actually very modern-looking sneakers fitted and shaped exactly to his fuzzy, dinosaur-like feet.

"They're amazing," he smiled, clearly impressed. "I'm sure they'll feel great, Lusmore."

"It'll be like walking on air, you'll see," the little leprehaun beamed proudly.

"But, wait," Ororo broke in. "I'm still confused. If we're here, and our bodies are there, how do we…you know…get back in?"

The phouka and the leprehaun laughed so brightly, the children caught it and added their own gleeful giggles to the pile.

"No worries there, my friends," Elwood said once he'd recovered sufficiently to speak. "All you have to do is fall asleep and when you wake up, you'll be safe and sound tucked snugly back into your own proper bodies."

Lusmore nodded. "It'll be as though you never left."

"And what about the children?" Ororo asked, trying hard to focus her mind on something other than how badly her arms were aching. "What will happen to them? Their parents think that they're dead!"

"You leave those considerations to us," Elwood said. "It was our kind that caused this mess. We'll take the responsibility for cleaning it up. You both have done enough."

"Above and beyond, that's what it was," the little leprehaun agreed. "Above and beyond. Seeing as all this interrupted your honeymoon and all. Even for professional superheroes such as yourselves, I've got to say I'm impressed with the level of your dedication."

Elwood held up his battered tin mug. "Here," he said, "take a swig of this. It never fails to put right whatever ails you."

Kurt took the mug in his pale hands, taking a wary sniff before raising it to his lips and taking a long drink.

"What is it?" Ororo asked as Kurt passed it over to her.

"I'm not really sure," he said thoughtfully. "But it isn't poteen."

"It's the very best of elfish brandy, that's what it is," Elwood sniffed. "That's some powerful stuff. You'll be out in no time."

"Which means it's time for us to say farewell," little Lusmore said with a sigh. "It's always sad when adventures come to an end."

"Aye," Elwood agreed, taking back his mug from Ororo as she covered a yawn with her green-tinted hand. "But if you're ever in Ireland, look us up! My house is rather cramped, but there's always room for friends, right Lusmore?"

"What nonsense are you talking, man?" the little leprehaun laughed. "There's barely room for me in that tumbledown shack of yours."

As the leprehaun and the phouka continued to trade friendly jibes, Kurt and Ororo felt they were slipping fast. As gently as they could, they lay their little charges down on the soft moss, then stretched out themselves, sharing one last smile before they closed their eyes.

* * *

"_And in local news, seven missing children have been reunited with their families tonight after police found them, and I quote, 'crawling around the station.' Most of these children, mainly infants and young toddlers, have been missing for over a week, yet they appear to have been well cared for. The police are currently running checks on their own surveillance tapes to see if they can identify and question whoever delivered the children to their door, but as of yet they can report no leads..."_

Kurt reached over to switch off the radio, then turned his head to smile at his wife, who was stretched out on the lounge chair next to him, staring out at the impossibly blue Hawaiian sea.

"Well, we certainly can't say our honeymoon has been dull," he observed, a wry twinkle in his golden eyes.

"Don't talk like that," Ororo mock scolded. "It isn't over yet. We have a whole week to go before we're expected back at the mansion. Who knows what crises will turn up between now and then."

Kurt winced. "I'd rather not speculate," he said. "This ferry trip is nice, though, isn't it? What have we got planned for the next island?"

"Well, according to the travel brochure, the volcano there has--"

Ororo spiel was interrupted by the sudden roar of a motorboat engine. Curious, and somewhat annoyed, the two of them stood up and leaned over the ferry's railing, looking for the source of the happy, wild cries that accompanied the engine's racket. Ororo frowned when she spotted the young girl with the yellow-green hair and the bright red cap shouting gleefully into the rushing wind, but when she turned to Kurt, she found he was smiling, an almost congratulatory expression on his face.

"I don't know what you're smiling about," she said. "The way she's carrying on out there, I wouldn't be surprised if she fell overboard."

Kurt chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that, Schatz," he grinned. "I've met that girl, and I can assure you she's right at home on the water. Actually, knowing her I'd be more concerned about the boat!"

The End

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